


A, not The, Thank You Very Much

by fringeperson



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Animagus Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, Easter, Easter Eggs, Gen, excessive if subtle use of certain magical items
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringeperson/pseuds/fringeperson
Summary: Certain Mythical beings can only be seen if they're believed in. Certain Magical beings are very aware of this, and like to take steps.~Originally posted in '17
Comments: 6
Kudos: 217
Collections: Harry Potter Fics





	A, not The, Thank You Very Much

“I can't believe it,” said the little red-head as she swung her feet in their pink gumboots, and hopped off the edge of the picnic table she'd been sitting on.

“I know,” said the large, humanoid rabbit, giving a weak chuckle as he held out the egg in his paw.

“There's no such thing as the Easter Bunny,” the girl said, clearly unable to see him.

“No! Wrong, no, not true! I'm right in front of you, mate!” objected the grey-furred individual – just before a little boy walked right through him. “They don't see me? They don't see me,” he whispered, and curled into himself.

“A- _hem_!” grumped a small, plain brown rabbit that, really, looked like every other wild rabbit did with dusty brown fur and a shining white tail. The little animal was up on its hind legs, a normal enough thing for rabbits. Unusual though, was that the rabbit wore a bag over one shoulder, the strap across its chest, and had a very stern expression on its face as it tapped one foot on the ground – to say nothing of it having _spoken_. “I beg your pardon. Late, thank you very much. The boss sprained both his feet the other day, and this is my first time doing the run on my own.”

“The Easter Bunny!” several kids exclaimed, and they ran over to the small animal.

“A, not The, thank you, that's the boss,” the small rabbit corrected, and twitched his whiskers. “I'm of half a mind to leave you all without any eggs at all for doubting like that, but the boss would skin me when he gets better, if I did that. Hmph.”

“We're sorry,” said a little boy with blonde hair. “Should we close our eyes while you hide the eggs?” he asked.

The little rabbit chuffed and twitched his whiskers again. “Might as well just form a line. I'm running late to another ten egg hunts in the county, and hiding eggs takes more time than just handing them out,” the rabbit said. “I'm not as fast as the boss normally is,” he added in the tone of a petulant excuse-maker.

Little paws went into the little bag, and pulled out an egg that shouldn't have been able to fit inside of it. It was a bright, solid green all over. The one after that (and more than just the children were staring in awe at the little bag that  _had_ to be magic) was pink, then a blue one, then a yellow one.

“They're not fancy,” the little rabbit acknowledged. “But I don't have the paws for fancy painting. I do the solid base coats and a few hunts, the boss does the fancy details – not to mention _most_ of the egg hunts. Lousy time for him to get injured – and then you lot not believing in him! That won't help him, you know!” the rabbit snapped as he continued to pull egg after egg out of his little bag, handing one each over to each child.

“We're sorry,” apologised a brown-haired girl earnestly.

“We promise, we won't stop believing again,” swore a boy who was probably her brother.

“Hmph. Well, alright then,” the little rabbit allowed. “That an egg for everyone? Yes? Good. Now, were did I put that...” the rabbit muttered and stuck both paws into his little bag again. “I'll never make it to the next egg hunt even _close_ to on time without a good bit of magic.”

A little hourglass on a chain was pulled out, and the chain pushed over the small brown rabbit's head and ears so that it hung neatly about the neck. The dial on the side was twisted over once, and then the little rabbit vanished.

“Wow!” breathed some of the kids.

“Where did he go?” asked others.

The children weren't the only ones wondering.

~oOo~

“Let's check the park again,” a boy said, resolved despite having just fallen from the top of a ladder.

“For what?” groused another boy.

“The Easter Bunny?” scoffed the twin of the second.

“Guys, I told you, I saw him!” the first boy insisted. “He's way bigger than I thought, and he's got these cool boomerang things -”

“And he pulled something serious the other night,” spoke up a plain, small, brown rabbit with a shining white tail and a blue satchel over one shoulder, catching the attention of all six of the children in the yard. “Really, I'm a _helper_ , I'm not supposed to be doing all the egg hunts by myself! I'm running late, _and_ having to explain it to every bunch of kids at every stop. Even using magic, I still mostly don't have time to really hide the eggs, and certainly not as many as the boss could.”

“Oh my gosh,” breathed a stocky girl who was wearing a pink cardigan and a tutu, despite the snow on the ground.

“Is that really...?” asked one of the twin boys.

“I _told_ you guys!” declared the boy who was missing one of his front teeth. “But...”

“I'm _an_ Easter bunny, just a helper, not The Easter Bunny of awesome stature, superior speed, and exemplary artistic skills,” the little rabbit said for what felt to him like the umpteenth time that day. “You can all look those big words up in the dictionary later. Alright, eggs. Not the fanciest, like I say, boss got himself injured at a really bad time, so I've only got simple ones, and you only get one each, okay? I'm on a time crunch and I've got less eggs than normal.”

“Do you think we could meet the real one?” asked a blonde boy with glasses.

The little brown rabbit, with his little bag, narrowed his eyes at the lad.

“Uh, I mean, the one that Jamie said he saw,” the boy corrected himself, clearly realising he'd offended the small rabbit with the implication that he _wasn't_. “Your, uh, your boss?”

The little rabbit twitched his whiskers as he pulled his bag around and reached in with both paws to pull out an egg.

“Maybe,” he said, as he passed the egg to a girl with a green-and-cream striped scarf. Then he turned to the boy with the missing tooth. “You've got a sister around here somewhere, yeah? I'm not hanging around, but you take two, one for you, one for her, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy agreed, eyes wide as he accepted two eggs – that really didn't look like they should have fit into that little bag – from the rabbit.

“How do the eggs fit in your bag?” asked one of the twins.

“Magic,” the rabbit answered, with a put-upon _isn't it obvious_ tone, even as he handed an egg over to the boy who had asked the question that had been burning in the minds of just about every child he'd met and handed eggs over to.

He wasn't the first to have asked, and as there was still almost all of the Americas to go (not a small job for one little rabbit), this kid probably wouldn't be the last either.

“Well, will we see you again?” asked the tutu-wearing girl hopefully.

That made the little rabbit pause in his handing out of eggs. That question had  _not_ been asked by any child yet. He'd explained that The Easter Bunny was injured, that he was a helper and running both late and short on eggs, and then he'd taken off (sometimes with the use of his little hourglass) to go to the next egg hunt. The kids had all been more interested in The Easter Bunny, or his magic bag, than in the little rabbit himself.

Apparently, even talking was taken as normal if he was delivering eggs.

“...Tell you what,” the little rabbit said slowly, whiskers twitching as he withdrew another egg from his little bag. “I'll come back to the lake just outside of town when I'm done. How's that sound?”

“Great!” the boy with the missing tooth cheered. “Sophie shouldn't miss out on seeing you just because you've got to hurry. She's been really excited to see The Easter Bunny all week, and I know you're not _him_ , but _a_ bunny is better than _no_ bunny.”

The little rabbit nodded in agreement.

“Yes, well, I make no promises as to what time I'll be there, but... when I'm done,” the little rabbit promised, then handed out the last egg for the stop, stepped back, spun in a tight quarter-turn to the left, and vanished.

“Woah!”

~oOo~

“ _You_ ,” a voice snarled.

The little rabbit had been relaxing by the frozen pond in the evening twilight after a long day of hard work. The children had come, had played with him, and little Sophie with her green, green eyes had played gently with him while her big brother kept a close eye on her. They'd all gone home a while ago. To their families, to their dinners and to their beds.

The little brown rabbit remained, enjoying a little peace and quiet, revelling in the stillness of nature as only a creature that was part of it, and yet held the intelligent mind of one who was not, truly could.

“Hm?” the little rabbit hummed as he looked up at the owner of the voice.

A tall, grey-skinned man with black hair, a black robe, yellow eyes and teeth worthy of a lower-class Londoner in the (fifteen-)eighties.

“Mate, sunlight, vitamin D, fresh air, all the good things, yeah?” the little rabbit said as it stretched again... but differently this time.

The feet got longer and broader. The powerful little hindquarters elongated into shins, calves, and thighs. Forepaws became hands, attached to arms, attached to shoulders on a not-so-furry back and chest. Long ears shortened and became shell-like, and a small, twitchy nose became something more pointed. The shining tail vanished completely, as did the fur. Only a mop of messy black hair remained, hanging untidily over green eyes and black-rimmed circular glasses.

Fortunately for all present, the man that stood now where a little rabbit had been was also very much clothed. Brown boots, blue jeans, and a sports jersey in red and gold that had  _Gryffindor_ on the front and  _Potter_ on the back. And a little blue bag on a string around his neck.

“Seriously, being literally grey like that cannot be healthy,” said the be-spectacled man that now stood where the little rabbit had been.

“You ruined my Easter!” the grey man roared angrily, and black sand swirled at his hand, coming together into a very long pole-arm with a very big pointy bit on the end. Scythe-like, but also a bit like a war-hammer, and altogether not something anybody wanted hitting them at all. “The plan was perfect! No little fairies coming in the night, no dreams, no _hope_ or _wonder_ ever again – but _you_! I thought Frost was bad enough for getting in the way, but no! It turns out that I missed another Pooka when I wiped your lot out at the end of the Golden Age!” he snarled, and swung the weapon down.

“Pooka?” repeated the man as he dodged. “What do mythical shape-shifting horses have to do with anything? Anyway, I'm pretty sure I'm human. I mean, yes, I can turn into a rabbit, but that took years of study to be able to do. Self transfiguration is tricky stuff, you know.”

“Oh, _joy_ ,” the grey man lamented sarcastically. “Not a Pooka, but a _wizard_.”

The green-eyed man bowed at the waist politely in acknowledgement of the other's recognition. An action that conveniently took him beneath the next swing of that weapon at his person.

“Hello, I'm Harry, and I'm not having fun right now,” the wizard identified himself as he straightened up, and quickly jumped over the scythe-thing when it was swiped at his legs. “It's been a very long day, I'm very tired, and I'm about ready to go to sleep and dream the sweet dreams of the contentedly exhausted.”

“Well, that's just too bad,” the grey man said, a hint of glee entering his voice. “Because I killed the Sandman, so there aren't any sweet dreams left! Only my nightmares!” he said, and gestured grandly with one hand – the other still held his weapon – towards the tree line.

A lot of horses made of black sand, with golden, forward-facing eyes (not at all the natural orientation for horses) stepped out of the shadows, whickering softly as those unnatural eyes considered Harry with what was definitely a hungry expression.

“Horses,” Harry said. “Okay, horses. Big, heavy, not fun if they decide to trample on you, but you've got to be underneath the horse for that to happen,” he observed. “Now, a stag, that's got an extra set of weapons on top of its head,” he said, and from the little blue bag that still hung from its string around his neck, Harry pulled out a wand.

His wand.

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” he incanted, and a massive white stag erupted from the tip of the wand, head down and antlers brought to bear, already charging.

Well, a Patronus worked against Dementors and Lethifolds, why not Nightmares as well? It did actually seem to be quite effective, as every nightmare that Prongs caught up on his rack dissipated into golden sand in short order.

“No!” the grey man yelled, infuriated at this latest defiance of his power.

Harry swayed, just barely avoiding the grey man's weapon that time. Really, he was  _very_ tired, and the Patronus charm was a high level spell. He may have been able to perform it since he was thirteen, but it was draining, and he was already pretty exhausted. Since turning the black sand gold seemed to be a good thing (why else would the guy trying to kill him object so loudly?) Harry decided to focus on maintaining Prongs and dodging, rather than aiming any other spells at his attacker.

One nightmare at a time, the black horses were turned into so much floating golden sand. After a while, Harry found himself starting to yawn, in addition to leaden eyelids and the previously mentioned swaying. Really not a good thing, given his situation.

He didn't see the boomerang whiz past his nose, or feel the cold hands that caught him when he finally succumbed to exhaustion.


End file.
